


Presumptions

by Gore_Emporium



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, F/M, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 14:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15512247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gore_Emporium/pseuds/Gore_Emporium
Summary: Set back in the days of Snakes n' Barrels: Pickles familiarity with the company of groupies have led him to a particular presumption— they just can't seem to get enough of him. So when a supposed fan doesn' fawn over him, he can't help but fixate on it.





	Presumptions

 

Pickles could never get his fill of groupies— they just had a little something that made them oh so addictive. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were always eager to please— or maybe there was much more to it. Either way, he just couldn’t help himself from indulging a little whenever one would proposition him. Hell— He often times found their bodyguards getting involved with their “bribes”. Albeit those were predominantly fixed in cash transactions.

Yet opposed to having another pleasant day with groupies, they were expected to entertain a few fans. And as far as they were aware, Pickles had caused a "minor" incident during one of their gigs. Of course, having to play damage control, their manager had somewhat worked out a deal with the supposed “hysterical” fan— the individual who had been victimized during the incident. Resulting in an almost day-long, private meet and greet as a form of restitution. It wouldn’t have been a chore if the singer hadn't been assigned to only entertaining the victim of the incident. Meanwhile, the other members of Snake n' Barrels took this far harder than him. As far as they were concerned— they were being punished for their singer's "major inconvenience".

 

* * *

 

Pickles began downing a fairly large bottle of whiskey as they waited in their manager's office for the fans to arrive. With a morbid tension hanging in the air, his stomach had turned in such a way that he had to expel the anxiety with his usual remedies— which often involved a lethal combination of drugs and alcohol. Of course, it was against the request—more of an order—of their manager. But he was sure he didn't care as long as he performed his part like he was the "star" act. For the singer, he did see himself as being competent enough to avoid putting them in a position like this. Albeit, he rationalized this circumstance by blaming a simple error for his minor difficulties on the stage that night. He had mixed his cocktail of prescription pills a little different that night

The members kept silent as they waited for the arrival of their babysitting gig— they were more fixated on the squeezing in a final high before they had to face possible sobriety for the rest of the night. Once the time arrived, it barely registered that there had even been a knock at the door.

"I have our guests here—I assume you're all decent?" The gruff voice of their manager seemingly cut through the door sending them into a mild but unsurprising panic.

They quickly attempted to hide their 'inspiration' wherever they could before the door had a chance to rush open. Once inside, the gruff older man seemingly looked over them as if his agitation could never be expressed verbally—surely, he wasn’t as brand new as the band would have hoped for.

Yet nothing seemed to cut this brutal tension like the excited ladies who surrounded him. The way they glowed with eagerness and joy seemed to rub the group exactly in all the right way—maybe they would be spending the night with a few groupies after all…

“Oh— Hi there, ladies.” Pickles easily greeted them as he shoot them with one of his signature smiles. He wasted little time drinking up their ecstatic reactions like it had been his manager’s whiskey.

It was clear to the gruff older man that there was a change in mood amongst the group—despite how much of a fit the band had thrown hours prior, they were as simple as ever. Proceeding on, he cleared his throat to somewhat gather back their attention,

“I’ll make this sweet and simple for all of you— this is a simple meet-and-greet. You will all do whatever these lovely ladies would like of you, alright?” He explained, more or less speaking to himself as the act openly inspected the fine selection of women. The manager didn’t bother reprimanding them for this and simply continued on with introducing the small group of fans. Yet despite gawking at the potential groupies, "Cooks" was the only name that seemed to stand out. None of them seemed to be of the women in front of him—who of which had happily waved to them as they had been introduced. There had to be an extra person somewhere amongst the group—he only hoped whoever it was a woman as well.

This name had also seemingly stricken the act as being odd,

"Wait, man—who’s ‘Cooks’?” Sammy "Candynose" Twinskins inquired as the ladies' eyes seemingly flickered towards the band’s manager.

“Hm—oh! I’m Cooks.” A withdrawn voice answered from behind their almost towering manager.

The other fans quickly acted on revealing her— as if frantic for some peculiar reason. Just setting eyes on her made it instantly clear to the band who had been involved in the incident. This revelation immediately dwarfed any suspicion the singer had moments ago.

Compared to the other ladies, Cooks’ fairly tall stature—and dark complexion—made her stick out amongst the populous of the room. Her presence alone had undoubtedly been punctuated by the supposed damage done to her by Pickles. As far as he could deduce, it appeared to him that her face was indeed covered in minor scrapes and an undeniable bruise. Unquestionably her arm had received the worse of the incident— being that it was fitted with a cast that rested in a sling just beneath her breasts. Yet despite all of this— what stuck out the most to the singer was the mild disinterest on her face once she had properly introduced herself.

Their manager followed through with keeping it “short and sweet” with his introduction and aimed to ship them all on their way.

“I assume you’ll all get along. If any of you need anything give me a ring. I’ll be in my office as late as ten tonight.” He said placing his hand on the victims’ shoulder as he stared down the redhead across from them. Seemingly derailing his previous train of thought to make it clear that she was only one in his “care” tonight.

“Fine— no need to stare me down like dat…” the singer muttered in discomfort as he shifted his gaze from the woman.

The gruff older man ushered the group out of his office as soon as he had made Pickles squirm. He only showed any resemblance of modesty towards the group of women before wasting little time giving his act a look of warning on their way out.

Once out into the hallway, the women wasted little time to chat up their idols. Eventually openly fawning over them between discussion of their plans.

 

Of course, Pickles ate this attention up— why wouldn’t he?

 

Yet once again— nothing claimed his attention like the woman who seemed as if she was waiting at the DMV.

  
  
  



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